Come children I'll tell you a story
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Come children I’ll tell you a story
Now don’t be impatient I pray
For it’s just an old man
That does all he can
To make children happy, they say.
He comes in the month of December
So you might all guess who I mean.
He comes in the night
And leaves before light
That’s why he never is seen.
He hides in the chimney at night
Till all little folks are in bed.
Then he comes out
A peeping about
Without any hat on his head.
He wears a fur coat with big pockets,
Just stuffed out as full as can be.
With the nicest of toys
For the girls and the boys,
I hope he don’t forget me.
Sometimes he finds an old stocking
Seems very ragged and torn.
You might be sure
He’s good to the poor
For he fills it up to the rim.
As told to me by my mother. See discussion page for more information.
